


Miles to Go

by deepspaceprincess



Series: Frost [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Emails, Hurt/Comfort, Letters, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Recovering Steve Rogers, Recovery, Therapy, a brief exploration into Steve Rogers getting better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6682273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepspaceprincess/pseuds/deepspaceprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve figures out how to be himself again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miles to Go

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! So after way too long I'm posting the next piece in what is now a series!  
> This is kinda short and more of an interlude showcasing Steve's recovery.  
> It doesn't get too deep and technical because that's not what I'm really trying to do with this series, I'm approaching this as something I can actually finish and if I think about it too much I won't do that. 
> 
> Again, no beta, just me rereading it several times when I should be sleeping, so there may be mistakes, apologies.

   The first few weeks were the worst.  
   Steve tried not to feel betrayed, but in the end it's the only word he feels works. He wants nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never resurface, he doesn't want to find his own way.  
It was so much easier with someone telling him what to do.  
It's not easy anymore, finding out who Steve Rogers is without someone pulling the strings.

   Maine is nice, Steve decides, after he is finally able to look past his own dispair and really take in the small town his Aunt Vera lives in. The air is much more crisp and he has an easier time breathing. Vera runs a rabbit rescue and has a bit of land that she uses for the cause, in the end this keeps Steve the busiest.  
After two months he's fallen into a solid routine:  
Rise early to help feed all the babies (Vera calls all her rabbits babies), go for a run, eat breakfast, go to his appointments. He sees a therapist regularly and does physical therapy once a week for his arm, which he had barely gotten proper treatment for after he tore a ligament in his elbow.  
Everything is a little bit easier now.

   “I'm proud Steven, you've shown great progress over these few months.” Dr. Richards said, a soft smile playing at his lips.  
   “In the end, I think removing myself from where I was really did help me out, as much as I didn't want to go at first.” he replied, thumbing at a page of the sketch diary he had been tasked with keeping.

   Steve was able to realize now, after some gentle probing from Dr. Richards, that he had been falling back into unhealthy tendencies with Bucky after his “escape” from Brock. It didn't do much to dull the hurt that Steve felt, he knew Bucky had only wanted the best, but it was clear that the two of them were getting too close too quickly in a tense situation. “That kind of relationship can't last Steven, if you want to continue to be his friend, if and when you return to New York, leaving was the best thing for both of you,” Reed had said.

   “It's been almost three months now, have you considered asking your Aunt for Bucky's number?”  
   Steve shook his head, “I don't think I'm quite ready to speak to him.”

   “That's understandable.” Dr. Richards stated, before contemplating something for a second. “What would you say to Bucky if you talked to him, right now? Don't think too hard about, just say the first thing that comes to mind.”  
   “I'd say thank you, for sure. I've told you before that he was the whole reason I was able to do what I did. I still don't understand how he, a stranger, reaching out had given me the courage to leave Brock. I think I'd also apologize, for putting him through what I did when I left. I wasn't very fair to him and I said some very terrible things.”  
   “A lot of people in your situation find that a simple acknowledgement from another person has turned the tide for them. Bucky noticed you and I think that set things off kilter for you Steven, made you reassess the relationship you were in.”

   Steve just nodded.  
   “What about Brock, what would you say to him?”  
   “I'd tell him he doesn't own me and that he never will again,” Steve said, the words a vow slipping easy from his lips.  
-*-*-

   After five months in Maine Steve found himself painting again, he had been sketching for his art diary that Reed kept him doing, but he hadn't found the energy to paint at all. He painted the landscape around him, the rabbits, his aunt, his dreams, and his nightmares. Steve painted violent shadows and quiet spaces onto canvas. When he tried to paint the connection he felt to Bucky, he found himself staring at blank canvas after blank canvas.

   Steve couldn't grasp how he felt about Bucky.

   “I don't want to hero worship him.” Steve told Dr. Richards, fiddling with a smooth stone he kept handy for when his anxiety was particularly bad, as it was today.  
   “That's a good thing to be able to recognize.”  
   “It's weird, like, Bucky could be anyone. Any old person could have seen what he saw.”  
   “But would they have done what he did?” Reed asked, raising an eyebrow at Steve.  
   “I guess that's the million dollar question.” Steve returned, with a shrug.  
-*-*-

   Time passed in a blur, though that wasn't to say Steve didn't struggle, he still flinched if someone moved toward him too quickly. He dreamed of angry words telling him he would never be worth anything to anyone, that he was nothing without Brock.  
   Some days he still believed them (those days he painted angry canvases he would burn later).  
   Steve had to work to think more of himself, to think his art was worth a damn, that he did have talent. That he could actually do something with himself.  
   He had to work to believe he was his own person and that frustrated him to no end.

   Aunt Vera was a saint, this was the third plate Steve had broken in the past two months alone during a fit.  
   Because he threw fits.  
   Because sometimes it was more than Steve could handle when he couldn't think more of himself.

   “I'd rather you break the plates then break yourself Sweetheart.” Vera said from the other side of his door.  
   “Why can't I just be better?” Steve sobbed from the corner he had curled himself into.  
   “You're getting there hun, we knew it would be hard, but you're doing so well.”

   Vera knew when to push and when to make herself scarce, she was an angel like that, so she let him be after her few words. Steve calmed himself down and found his sketch diary.  
   He ground the charcoal to dust drawing a shattered plate and the clouds he saw inside his head.

   Steve found Vera on the couch later and hugged her, promising to go shopping for new plates the next day.  
-*-*-

   Seven months had passed and while Steve wasn't under the delusion he was “cured” he was able now to put “old Steve” and “new Steve” into perspective.

   Old Steve was scared to do things alone. New Steve bought bread by himself.

   Old Steve needed Brock to tell him what to wear. New Steve explored with new styles, finding he loved the way he looked in red.

   Old Steve wanted to be useful. New Steve recognized his worth as a person, regardless of whether he was any good to anyone but himself.

   Old Steve needed Bucky for security.

   New Steve hadn't contacted him in all this time.

   “I feel like at this point he wouldn't want to talk to me anymore.” Steve sighed.  
   He was much more open now, more willing to give his thoughts to Reed, Steve had been so scared to say what he wanted when he first got here. Now he sometimes found it hard to bite his tongue.

   “Why do you say that?” Dr. Richards asked.  
   “I just, I hurt him. And as selfish as it is I'd be hurt if he wanted nothing to do with me.”  
   “You're both grown men, and while I don't personally know Bucky, I think the two of you would be able to talk things out. He doesn't seem like a petty person.”

   “I don't think he is, but I honestly hardly know him. I was with him just shy of a month and in that time it wasn't like we got to know each other. He was trying to give me time to get over things, I realize that now, but instead I just traded Brock for him, in a way.”  
   “He was able to see that though.”  
   “Yes. Which was why he made me leave.”  
   “Do you resent him for that?”  
   “No. Not in the slightest, he understood I needed to recover and that it wasn't going to happen there.” Steve said, pursing his lips.

   He had a pretty solid idea what Dr. Richards was going to say next, the man was pro at making Steve prove his points.  
   “So he understands the need to do what is required to recover, for you, that meant not contacting him. Do you really think he'll hate you?” Reed asked.

   Dr. Richards knew the answer to that question, so Steve kept his mouth shut.  
-*-*-

        _Bucky,_

 _I won't apologize for not contacting you until now because I think you'll just tell me not to. It's been almost a year and I should have done this sooner. I'm doing good these days, so much better than the first few months out here. My bad days are still bad, but few and far between._  
 _I can't quite put into words the things I feel some times and this is one such time. My brain is often a jumble, like a word scramble I have to solve on my own. I can never thank you enough for the things you did for me, even though we were strangers and still practically are._  
 _Please though, don't stop me for apologizing for the things I said to you when I left, I was wrong to tell you what I did. I won't make excuses for myself._  
 _You're the reason I decided to leave, to get better, but that was only in the beginning. I did eventually want to get better for myself, when I found out who I was again when I was my own person._  
 _Which I am now. I'm my own person, Bucky, and it's thanks to you._  
 _I wrote to you once and told you that I don't always do so well with talking to people, which is why I'm writing this. It gave me the chance to collect my thoughts as much as I can, to try to be clear, which I still don't think I am._  
 _I hope this time you'll write back to me Bucky._  
 _-Steve_  
-*-*-

    _Steve,_

 _I'm not as eloquent with words as you are, I'd much rather run my mouth then try to arrange words on paper, but I'll try my damnedest._  
 _A year, two, or three, however long it took, I wouldn't care. You need to do what you need to do to recover, if I'm not a part of that plan then so be it._  
 _If I am, all the better._  
 _Recovery is a weird thing, as I'm sure you're learning, because it never really stops. I'm five years out of the Army and I still find myself trying to find my way some days. Like you said, the bad days are bad, but few and far between._  
 _We may not have known each other long, but I judge my relations to people on quality, not quantity, please know Steve, that I'm here when you need me and gone when you don't._  
 _Please know that I'm your friend._  
 _-Bucky_  
-*-*-

   Bucky and Steve exchanged emails regularly, Steve still wasn't ready for the fast paced contact of texting or speaking on the phone, but the two kept in touch. Steve kept a list of the things that he had learned about Bucky through their correspondence:  
   1. Bucky has a little sister named Rebecca.  
   2. Bucky's parents are divorced.  
   3. His mother's name is Winnifred and she is wheelchair bound (reason still unknown).  
   4. He served in the Army, lost his left arm, and was discharged medically (what exactly happened was still disclosed).  
   5. He loved to bake.  
   6. His full name was James Buchanan Barnes.

   Their emails were usually lighthearted, the two of them speaking about their days or their favorite this and that. Steve looked forward to each and every one of them, because for the first time in a long time, he had a friend.

   “Hey Doc, do you think you could help me with recommendations for a therapist back in the city?” Steve asked one day, over a year into his recovery.  
   Reed looked pleasantly surprised from his side of the desk.  
   “I'll put some names together for you.”  
-*-*-

   Steve still kept some things from Bucky, like the fact he was looking for apartments in Brooklyn or that he had applications sent to several schools to teach art.  
   Steve didn't want to tell Bucky just yet that he had found a doctor in the city who was glad to take him on as a patient.  
   Steve didn't want to tell Bucky that as scared as he had been to leave, he was more scared to come back.

 **James Barnes**  
 **to Steve**  
 **Feb 4** View Details

I moved.  
It happened a few weeks ago, but I kept it from you until now, I wasn't really sure if it was something you'd be interested in knowing. Brock has been gone for some time, like I told you, but a vacancy opened up in the same complex that Nat lives in and it's super close to the bakery. So I decided not to reup my lease.

 **Steve Rogers**  
 **to James**  
 **Feb 5** View Details

I signed a lease.  
I'll be back in April.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my lifeblood.  
> Come find me on Tumblr: deepspacesprincess


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